The Boy in the Record Store
by Cannibal Glow
Summary: Frerard. 'We scurry to the bathroom where Frank smiles at me awkwardly. I take a bold step towards him, and kiss him full-force. '


**hey, guys. little oneshot. enjoy it.**

**DISCLAIMER - I do not own any of the guys in My Chemical Romance, no matter how much I wish I did. This is purely fiction. If it weren't, that'd just be wierd and I'd be plagarizing.**

While putting away CDs in the 'Pop/Rock' section of the store, I see him. That kid! I don't know his name, but he comes into the store where I work every single day during my shift. He browses for a while, then he leaves. It's vexing, to say the least. He's pretty hot, though. Really hot, actually.

I shake my head, feeling my long hair being pulled this way and that by the action. I try to focus on the task at hand, but I can't seem to alphabetize for shit. So I stare at the kid some more. He's focused on the 'Punk' section; I figure it's okay to glue my eyes onto him. He's got short blonde hair on the sides, with a long, dark section in the middle. Like a deflated mohawk. He's chewing on his lip ring, with two CDs in his two hands. I decide to go and help him.

"Excuse me? Is there something I can help you find?" Ugh. That always sounds so fem.

"Umm…" the kid looks from his hands up to me, and appears to be stunned. "no."

"You sure? You look like you're a little undecided, there." I try my best to smile indifferently, when really I'm smiling at the fact that he sounds as good as he looks.

"Well, I don't know. I want to buy a Smiths CD, but I don't know which one. I don't have The Queen Is Dead, but then there's this 'Best of' one, and that seems pretty cool, too."

My heart begins to pound. _He _likes The _Smiths_?! Wow. I regain my composure. "The Queen Is Dead. No question. The band was going through hell, and this album made it through that. It's worth a listen."

The boy nods at me and opens his mouth again. "But with the other one, I get the songs that I like."

"You'll like all the songs on The Queen Is Dead."

"How should you know?"

"Okay," I sigh, "I don't know. But a 'Best of' CD just reeks of sell-out."

The kid gives me a sour look and I revel in the attention. "You obviously do not know a thing about supply and demand!" he exclaims and storms out of the store.

I blink. What a temper on that guy. I shake my head once more and get back to stocking the shelves with generic, non-Smiths material. After an hour of this, I feel I deserve a break. My stomach snarls at me and my head throbs. It's definitely time for a coffee and a veggie burger.

I tell my manager I'm going for lunch, and I exit the store and go into the mall. My store's one of those little rooms in a galleria. It pisses me off how loud it always is, but the money is decent and I need to pay off art school. While going to art school. Ugh.

Suddenly, I feel a finger tap my shoulder. I whip round to see the kid who'd yelled at me an hour before. He hold his hand out firmly and says, "I'm Frank."

"Gerard," I reply cautiously, shaking Frank's hand. "What brings this on?"

"I'm sorry for being so cranky. Shitty, shitty day."

I scoff. "It's fine! And how was your day shitty?"

I don't know why, but I'm intrigued by this Frank boy. He has this pull on me. Like gravity. I can't look away. And I can't stop asking stupid questions.

"That's gonna take a while. Food court?"

I breathe a sigh of relief. "Food court."

We walk, unspeaking, to the horseshoe shaped area plastered with fast food places. Frank buys me a latte, and I buy us two veggie burgers. I'm thankful he likes them, too. It's then I notice that we have the same eyes. The same eyeliner pattern, and the same hazel color. Except his were plenty more gorgeous than anything my anatomy could come up with.

Frank finds a table in the corner of the lunchtime rush and we begin to eat. I sip my coffee and am instantly overcome by a sense of relief. I suppose you could say that I'm addicted to the stuff.

"Want to hear about my day now?" Frank asks me innocently.

"Of course."

"Okay, so, first, I get to school. That's always a drag. And then my boyfriend," Frank makes a disgusted noise, "_ex_-boyfriend, I mean, breaks up with me. In front of our friends. I bombed my math midterm, so now my dad's gonna be kicking my ass."

"Aw, shit," I say, sadly. Then, something clicks. "Wait… did you say _boy_friend?"

"_AWWW_! Don't tell me you're a homophobe! Shit!"

"No," I laugh, "no, Frank! That's not it at all. It's just that I don't meet very many other gay people outside of my courses."

"Other gay people? You mean you're-?"

"Yep," I shrug and take a bite of a french-fry.

Frank suddenly blushes. I chew and swallow, and then ask, "Why so red?"

"There was, um, one good part about my day…"

"Oh?" I cock my head to one side, "And what was that?"

"The cute boy at the CD store finally talked to me."

My eyes widen. "If you mean my manager, I'm going to have to kill you."

Frank giggles. "Because I totally have a thing for fat, beardy guys."

I smile at Frank, and he grins back at me. "How about we get some revenge on that ex-lover of yours?"

"Revenge? How?"

"I mean, he won't _see _it or anything, but we could still give it a shot. See, there's this sexbomb that keeps coming into my store every day, and he yelled at me. While he has no taste in original music," I mock, seeing Frank smile a bit, "I'd quite like to hear his opinions on sodomy."

Frank is silent. I'm instantly self-conscious. I shouldn't have been so forthright. He's just freshly out of a relationship; the last thing he wants is probably sex.

But then Frank speaks. "I'm not opposed to it," he says, his small smile getting larger by the second, "as long as I'm on bottom."

I absorb the information while taking another drink of my latte. This could not be more perfect, nor more inconvenient. Here we were, eager as hell to fuck each other, but we had no place to do it. Then an idea hits me.

"My store has a washroom…"

Frank's face perks up instantly. "That could be of use, yeah?"

"Definitely."

"Oh, fuck," Frank says, a confounded look on his face.

"What?"

"You don't have… anything, do you?"

I knew he meant condoms and the like. The whole sex run-around was tiresome, at best. "Uh, no. Sorry."

"It's okay, there's a drugstore right around the corner, isn't there?"

I think for a second. I've worked here how long? There had to be some sort of drug mart conglomerate in the mall someplace. Ah! "Yup, there's one just down here. C'mon!"

I unthinkingly latch my hand onto Frank's as we walk to the store together. I was used to doing it with my boyfriend (whom I'd failed to remember that day), and I guess old habits die hard.

"Flavoured?" he asked, when we were in the specific aisle.

"What for? It's your ass they're going into," I pointed out.

"This is true," Frank agrees and swiftly pulls a box of pre-lubricated ones off the shelf. He pays for them and we head back into my store. My manager gives us a death stare, but I don't care about it. I just want Frank. Now.

We scurry to the bathroom where Frank smiles at me awkwardly. I take a bold step towards him, and kiss him full-force. I feel his tongue graze the surface of mine, and I put one hand on the back of his neck, curling my fingers around it. Not choking, but close. I don't know if he did, but I love it rough as I can get it. There's no objection on his part, so I figure he likes it. I continue to kiss him, but I move the kisses lower, onto his neck. I feel myself beginning to stiffen at the soft, stifled moans that were slipping past his lips. I knew he was trying to keep them in, of course, and it made me feel like a stud when I heard him making noises already. I quit the kissing altogether and started licking. I cover more ground that way, and Frank puts a hand to his mouth and moans into it. I pull away slightly and blow on the trail of saliva I'd left on his neck. Frank shivers. I laugh.

"What?" he asks.

"You're cute."

"Oh," Frank giggles.

I pull Frank's collar over, abruptly ending the conversation, and kiss his collarbone, flicking my tongue every so often to shake things up. Every time I do, Frank twitches. It almost makes me laugh.

I put my free hand southwards, tracing my index finger around where I assume it'd really count. "Are we ready?" I whisper.

"Uh huh," Frank replied unsteadily.

I have to remove my hand from Frank's neck to undo his dark blue skinny-leg jeans and pull them to his ankles. I don't go for the boxers right yet, as I'm one for kissing. So I push his shirt up, which he then takes off, and press my lips to the lower half of his toned abdomen. I swirl my tongue in his bellybutton, because I see that it gets him very excited. I'm not even upset or angry that I'm doing the work, either.

I continue my kissing Frank's anatomy, when he tries to force my head down. I grin to myself. "That's not gonna get me on your cock any faster, you know," I warn.

"Gerard! Just do it, already!"

"Frank's angry."

"He will be soon!"

I sigh and pull down his plaid boxer shorts slowly, making as much friction on his hips and the surrounding area as possible. I'm not astounded by Frank's size in particular, but just how I'm finally seeing him. All of him. In just one day of speaking to him. I bite my cheeks so I have a mouthful of spit and I take Frank in my mouth. I bob my head up and down, hollowing my cheeks every now and again. Frank begins to whimper, and he's squeezing his fingers on my head in time with my head movements. That's when I know it's time to stop.

I slowly let myself fall back onto my feet, licking my lips. Frank looks at me disapprovingly. "Gerard!"

"Hold on a sec," I murmur, putting a hand on Frank's lap. "Get on the floor."

Frank doesn't ask questions. He gets on the floor, back up. He turns on his side, because he was obviously uncomfortable. I whip off my own jeans and get a rubber from the pocket. I pay attention to myself briefly so the condom will slide on without difficulty. Then, I get on my knees, as well, and find his entrance. I hear him whimper, but not as much as he should have. I had a feeling he was a pro. Good. Finally, I had met my match.

Minutes dragged on, moans got harder to stifle, and eventually I saw Frank shiver, and felt his muscles tense up. The sensation of that made me shake, as well, and I pulled out and washed off in the sink. I hadn't stained my work pants; that was a good thing.

Frank was pulling up his own jeans and washing the splatter he'd made on the floor. Once I felt I looked okay, I cleared my throat. Frank looked up.

"Will I see you tomorrow?"

Frank held up the black box we'd bought before and shook it. "You know it.'

"You're okay with this?"

"If you are."

I smile and walk out of the bathroom to continue stocking CDs. I feel a vibration on the side of my leg, which almost makes me go nuts, considering the circumstances.

There's a text from my boyfriend. **What's up? **it reads. **Love you!**

I sigh and type out my reply. **Love you, too. **

I'm about to press 'send', but just as I'm about to do so, Frank brushes by me, his open hand sliding across my ass ever so slightly. Deliberately, but slightly.

I exit the text message screen, not saving the draft, and looking forward to the next day. And that significant black, cardboard box.


End file.
